


"In the Beginning"

by Princess of Geeks (Princess)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Adultery, Angst, Children of the Gods, Episode Related, First Time, M/M, Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-15
Updated: 2010-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess/pseuds/Princess%20of%20Geeks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene for Children of the Gods, when Jack brings Daniel home right after they get back from Abydos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"In the Beginning"

Jack said, pretending exasperation -- at least Daniel was fairly sure he was pretending; somehow despite the intervening year, Jack seemed as familiar, as ordinary, to him as his own hands, his own pen -- "Daniel, for crying out loud, you've had one beer. You're a cheaper date than my wife."

Jack's tone was something to focus on; something as real as the pain inside himself, a vastness upon the edge of which he had been teetering all day, a cliff from which he was doomed to fall.

Daniel forced himself to swallow some more of the thin, bitter beer and said, "Yes, when am I going to meet your wife?"

"Oh, probably; uh, never...." Jack checked his eyes; found them receptive, urging him to say more. Why did Jack check? Why would Jack let Daniel's encouragement prompt his words? "After I came back from Abydos the first time, she'd already left."

Jack. Cavalier, stoic, completely unmoved. Except, he wasn't. At all. Daniel responded not to the words or the tone, but to what he knew -- he KNEW -- was under the surface. A grief as great as his own, yet hidden much deeper, much more thoroughly.

"I'm sorry," Daniel said, quietly, from his heart.

Jack was silent for a moment, sitting there uncomfortably in his comfortable chair. "Yeah, so was I.... I think in her heart, she forgave me for what happened to our kid. She just … couldn't forget."

So quiet, so soft. The moment was poised, as on the edge of a knife. Why would Jack talk to him? Why?

Daniel asked, "And what about you?"

Jack looked right at him. "I'm the opposite. I'll never forgive myself, but sometimes I can forget. Sometimes."

Jack drank more beer. They sat in silence. Daniel tasted his beer again, too, and then set it on the table. To forget. What a gift that would be. Forgetting, even for an hour, would be so, so sweet. These words of Jack's were an invitation. He knew this, because he knew Jack. Daniel stood, ran his hands down the unfamiliar coverall slacks. A year in the desert, a year in robes, not these American clothes. He sighed. It was so late. He was so tired. Jack was eyeing him warily. He walked over to stand in front of his friend.

"I really am a cheap date. That's a good thing to be, on a night like tonight."

Jack stared up at him, chin lifting, eyes narrowed. "It's just a figure of speech, Daniel."

"I know. Linguist, remember?" Daniel put his fingers to the zipper of his borrowed coveralls, jerked it fretfully down a few inches, and then up. Underneath the coveralls, he wore a white Air Force-issue T-shirt, and Air Force briefs. His skin felt gritty with sand. The sand of his home. The tears were there, just behind his eyes, sitting heavy on his tongue, wet and inexorable, a blinding storm. If he leaned into it. If he let it break. He jerked the zipper up, then down.

Jack brought his bottle in close and began lifting the label with his thumbnail. "Look. You've been through a lot. It's late."

"It's late and I'm tired and hurt and I want to go to bed. Can't we do that? You want to as much as I do, I think."

Zzzt, went the zipper. Up, and back down: zzzt.

Jack, moving slowly, deliberately, put his beer on the table beside him and folded his hands in his lap. He didn't meet Daniel's eyes. "I asked you here because I wanted to help you. Because I care." He looked up. "Don't read more into it than that."

Daniel smiled, grim and knowing. His eyes didn't smile. The tears were right behind them. "Jack, listen. The Abydonians wouldn't look on this as cheating. You're an honorable man; I know that. I learned that a year ago. Sha're is my wife; she's out there, and tomorrow we'll start again, we'll ... we'll..." Daniel looked away, at the cold hearth and dark mantel, with its flourish of medals, at the glow of light from the hall, at the cold dark window glass, and then he looked back, catching Jack's dark, knowing eyes. "Back home -- my home, not Earth. Back there, they would understand this." Jack frowned, holding Daniel's gaze. "Jack," Daniel continued, desperate now, feeling the storm behind his eyes, feeling the lightning and the first sting of sand, knowing he was understood, knowing he was understood all too well. "Don't make me beg."

Jack stood up, coiled energy rising to meet the building storm. He put his arms around Daniel and pulled him close. Daniel sagged into him. Daniel brought his arms up too. Daniel said, "I'm not imagining this. You don't have to pretend with me. Ever."

"Shut up," Jack said, and raised his head and kissed Daniel, hard, a hand at the back of his head to hold him still, to hold back the storm.

End


End file.
